


For The Morning.

by UnifiedCreations



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cute, Dancing, Fluff, It's just all that cuteness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnifiedCreations/pseuds/UnifiedCreations
Summary: “I’ve never seen an angel dance before. I thought you all weren’t allowed. My memories of Heaven might be a bit hazy but I seem to remember there being these big signs that read, ‘No Fun Allowed’ everywhere.”Aziraphale huffed a laugh, turning his page although his attention was now certainly elsewhere.“I think it was more implied.”~*~*~After a night of companionable drinking, Crowley suggests that Aziraphale tries a new dance. With him.(1.5k of the boys being soft.)





	For The Morning.

“Have you ever danced?”

 

Aziraphale glanced up from his book, placing his thumb between the open pages to mark his place.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Danced. Y’know.” Crowley did a wiggle in his seat, tapping his foot to the music playing from the old record player and doing jazz hands. “Boogied. Got down.”

 

“Of course I have. I may be a little old but I’m not _dead_.” The angel rolled his eyes, returning them to his book. Even with his gaze averted, he could still feel the other man’s slitted pupils on him.

 

Crowley had taken to taking his glasses off indoors recently, or at least in the bookshop. He claimed that the dim lighting along with the sunglasses made it almost impossible to see, although Aziraphale liked to think that it meant that the demon was comfortable with him.

 

“I’ve never seen an angel dance before. I thought you all weren’t allowed. My memories of Heaven might be a bit hazy but I seem to remember there being these big signs that read, _‘No Fun Allowed’_ everywhere.”

 

Aziraphale huffed a laugh, turning his page although his attention was now certainly elsewhere.

 

“I think it was more implied.” He murmured, looking back over at the demon. “Of course I’ve danced. You don’t stay on Earth for 6000 years without trying out the local activities, after all.” His expression brightened and Crowley rolled his eyes as if it were a reflex. “In fact, there was this one dance I learned… it must have been a few decades ago now, but I can teach you-”

 

“Oh Go- fuck, I remember now.” Crowley groaned, tipping his head back and pressing his palm to his face. “That ridiculous line dance with all the… the leg moving and the arms.”

 

“Yes! That’s the one.” Aziraphale stood up, putting his book on the nearby table and automatically going to straighten his jacket, halted by the fact that he’d taken it off and hung it up earlier. He did wobble a little, which was completely due to the bottle and a half of wine that the two men had split earlier and nothing else. Certainly not his excitement of actually getting to teach his ~~friend~~ ~~partner~~ Demonic Chum something. “It’s awfully good fun, although we would need a few more people to perform it properly...”

 

“No, no. We’re not doing that.” Crowley sat up, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. “You will not catch me doing the… doing whatever that, that was.”

 

At least Aziraphale wasn’t the only one affected by their drinks, it seemed.

 

“Well, I’ve seen the way you dance. It’s all… hips and flailing arms and _grinding_ and- and didn’t you once pretend to climb an invisible rope towards me?”

 

“What?”

 

“In that bar, the one in… I don’t recall, I think we were in America? Oh! It was that time with the President and the door-”

 

“HA!” Crowley barked, swinging his legs down from the table that Aziraphale had already pushed them off of three times before giving up. “That’s a classic. Anyway, uh- what were we talking about?”

 

“Um.” Aziraphale squinted his eyes as he concentrated, staring at the half-empty wine glass in Crowley’s hand. “Dancing! That.”

 

“Yes!” Crowley snapped his fingers, the glass disappearing and re-appearing on the table. “Dancing. We should do it.” He pushed himself to his feet, only staggering once once upright.

 

“What? Right now?” Aziraphale replied, flushing.

 

“Yeah.” The record on the player skidded before switching to a different song. This one was slower- Aziraphale recognised it from dating from around the 1930s- and suddenly Crowley was much closer than he was before.

 

“Um.” He blinked, forcing some of the alcohol from his system and back into the bottle. “I. I don’t know this dance, I’m afraid.”

 

“S’okay,” Crowley ran a hand through his hair, making it almost stand on end. “I’ll teach you.”

 

God- um, Almighty- did this Demon know how infuriatingly _cute_ he was?!

 

“See, there were all these underground bars and dance halls during the war,”

 

He was so close, Aziraphale could see the flecks of black on his yellow irises.

 

“I used to hang out in them because, y’know. Tempting people to do things they shouldn’t, and in the US alcohol was like… illegal or something for ages.” Crowley was still talking, oblivious to the Angel’s internal panic. “They did good dancing. Fun dancing. But uhhh. Too drunk for that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “This one though, this one was… nice.”

 

“Oh?” He decided to ignore the man’s use of the word ‘nice’, if only to keep him talking.

 

“Mhm. C’mere, come on.” He beckoned Aziraphale closer and he took a step. “Gimme your hands.”

 

Aziraphale did so, trying to not jolt when they were taken up by Crowley’s.

 

“Kay, so you put one here...” Crowley placed the Angel’s left hand on his waist, over his black shirt. “Then the other, the other hand goes here.” Instead of moving Aziraphale’s hand elsewhere he simply linked their fingers, palm to palm, raising their hands to just above shoulder-height. “M’kay. And now...”

 

He started to sway gently side to side, nudging Aziraphale to copy him.

 

“Oh.” Aziraphale blinked, coming back to the present from his thoughts. He copied the demon, trying to not think about just how close they were.

 

“Mhm, there y’go.” A smile found its way onto Crowley’s face- a softer, nicer one than his usual smirk- and Aziraphale found himself returning it. “Now you gotta, you gotta add proper movement. Feet, gotta move your feet.” Slowly, he directed his friend to do so- a gentle side-to-side step rather than anything complicated. “Man, those were fun times. Not the, y’know. War and stuff. But the times in the war.”

 

“Mm.” Aziraphale replied, too distracted with how fast his heart was beating to hear words any more.

 

They stayed relatively in place for several minutes, just gently moving to the music. Aziraphale exhaled slowly, swallowing as Crowley’s eyes met his for a countless time.

 

“Crowley, I-”

 

Several things then happened very quickly. A car backfired outside the shop, which caused both men to jump. Aziraphale then managed to step, quite hard, on Crowley’s foot, which made the man hiss in pain and automatically hit out at whatever was near with a shot of his power- in this case, the record player. The machine fritzed and the record screeched to a halt, plunging the room into quiet.

 

“Oh- oh my, I am sorry,” Aziraphale flustered, stepping back but halted by their joined hand. “I, um, I wasn’t expecting-”

 

“’s fine, ‘s fine,” Crowley grunted in returned, shaking out his foot. “Fuckin’ modern cars. They don’t make ‘em like they used to.”

 

“Indeed.” Aziraphale replied, watching as Crowley shook his head. His pupils, which had gotten slightly wider at the shock, had returned to normal and were focused on him. “That was… that was nice though.”

 

Crowley stared at him with an unreadable expression.

 

“Mm.” He replied, pursing his lips for a moment in thought. “Ugh. ‘m gonna go to bed. You coming?”

 

“I- what?”

 

“You’ve still got that spare room right?” Crowley continued, as if he hadn’t just given the Angel a metaphorical heart attack. “I can go home, if you want me to. Just thought.” He shrugged, cracking his neck.

 

“Oh! Of course, of course. Nothing different from the last time you stayed.” Aziraphale smiled brightly. “Would you like a nightcap, or an extra pillow?”  


Crowley seemed to hesitate before replying, something that Aziraphale did not miss.

 

“Nah, I’m fine. Already had enough to drink, I think.” He gave a crooked grin, unlinking their fingers to run a hand through his hair. “Night, angel.”

 

Aziraphale nodded, wringing his hands together in an attempt to ignore how suddenly cold his felt.

 

“Goodnight Crowley. Sweet dreams!”

 

“Fuck, I hope not.” Came the grumbled reply as the Demon ascended the stairs, gripping the banister with the hand that was just holding the other man’s. “Have a great nightmare.”

 

“I’m sure I will!” Aziraphale called after him, bouncing a little on his feet.

 

He then began his nightly rituals, making sure that the shop was all locked up for the night- of course he had already used his powers to check, but an Angel could never be too sure- and making sure the back rooms were as tidy as he’d left them. They were, but again. He could never be too sure.

 

As he went to switch off the lamp and follow Crowley up the stairs, he noticed something.

 

Both of the wine bottles that he and his ~~friend~~ ~~partner~~ ~~what where they?~~ Crowley had been drinking from were almost full. Barely a drop missing.

 

A matter for the morning, he decided, although the knowledge that perhaps Crowley had been sober for the last few minutes was… well, a sobering realisation indeed.

 

For the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Things I should be doing: Updating my other fic series. All of them.  
> Things I am doing: Bashing this out in two hours after finishing episode six and screaming internally.  
> I came up with this halfway through work and couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I also /love/ doing requests so if anyone has any just leave a comment! (I don't do smut/non-con/much explicit stuff though!)
> 
> (I can't for the life of me remember the name of the dance that Aziraphale likes, although it makes me cry because he's so happy and wholesome.)  
> If anyone spots any mistakes then please let me know! I have not beta'd this and am going to bed soon. For shame.


End file.
